A spectre looms over world cities from Dublin to Delhi, London to Lagos. It is not the promise of glass towers or innovation hubs, but the absence of homes. While policy pledges proliferate, billions remain locked out of shelter. In 2025, analysts determined that as many as 6.5 million new housing units are required across developed economies alone to meet demand and affordability, not to mention the eight to ten million‑unit gap existing in poorer communities. This shortfall is not statistical noise; it is the slow erosion of human dignity.
Poverty is not the only force behind the crisis. In high-income countries, surging property values outstrip wage growth, London’s average house price is now nearly 9.6 times median salary; in Toronto and Seoul, more than tenfold. In lower-income nations, rapid urban migration swells informal settlements. Nairobi’s slum population now exceeds three million; Rio and Mumbai struggle under the weight of millions living in shelters of tin and cardboard. Globally, 1.6 billion people live with inadequate structure or overcrowded beds. These are not anomalies; they are symptoms of planning failure and economic imbalance.
Behind this crisis lies a catalogue of system breakdowns. In many cities, zoning laws or slow permitting processes freeze potential supply. Japan’s urban densification restrictions, Germany’s conservation codes, and U.S. local review hoops replicate delays that prevent new units from emerging. A single zoning dispute in Mumbai can stall an entire high-rise for years. In Europe alone, judicial planning reviews grew by at least 15 percent in the last three years, ensnaring thousands of units in legal paralysis. What we badly need in bricks, we deny through bureaucracy.
The human toll is urgent. In New York, over 650,000 people slept in shelters in 2024. In Cape Town, shack dwellers account for one in five residents. In Barcelona and Vancouver, young workers and retirees alike share couches or wait years for affordable units. Excessive rent consumes over 35 percent of many renters’ incomes. In slums, fragile health outcomes, fire hazards, and unstable tenure erode hope into habit. A home is not just shelter; it is the threshold between opportunity and oblivion.
Yet the crisis could be tamed. In Ireland, pilot modular construction programmes reduced build time by over 30 percent. In Brazil, upzonings near metro lines unlocked vast new housing stocks. India’s mass transit–oriented developments yielded 200,000 homes with minimal idle land. A WHO‑aligned health standard for housing now makes ventilation, insulation, and sanitation prerequisites. These are bullets not of charity but of design, process, and determination.
To close the gap, cities must designate housing as critical national infrastructure. In New York, pressing certificates and approvals within months (not years) becomes law. Judicial appeals must be limited to substantive violations, not delays of convenience. And public authorities must actively acquire and release underutilized land, holding it as public trust until it yields homes.
Tax policy can be a tool too: a land‑value or vacant‑lot tax penalises hoarding and speculation. Singapore’s land lease policies, tied to resident occupancy, discourage vacancy. Councils should incentivise densification and permitting multi‑unit row houses, coach houses, and pocket developments without excessive review at a neighbourhood scale.
Globally, housing must be reimagined less as asset and more as right. Transition programmes must emphasise retrofit and renewal. Slum upgrading and tenure legalisation in Dhaka or Lagos costs but a small fraction of GDP and yields social cohesion. “Rent‑controlled but reasonable return” frameworks in Berlin and Vancouver have slowed displacement while keeping construction sustainable.
Of course, all this requires public will. If global investment totals $6 trillion across infrastructure portfolios, but housing remains peripheral, then we are placing prestige ahead of people. If economists can quantify GDP growth but not human excess in eviction statistics, then our metrics are distorted.
To restore trust, governments must act quickly, compassionately, decisively. Tiny prefabricated units can house refugees; large mixed‑use projects can rehabilitate vacant storefronts; microfinance and shared equity can help the self‑employed buy homes. But most urgently, we must stop delaying. A society that builds homes, not just condominiums; that shelters, rather than speculates; that sees tenants as citizens, not customers, this is the society that chooses life over ledger, permanence over profit.
Years from now, children should be able to say: “I grew up in a city that cared.” Not: “I grew up in a city defined by what I didn’t have.” If housing becomes the foundation not of exclusion but inclusion, if policy becomes humanity made tangible, then the housing crisis can be a turning point, not just of design or commerce, but of conscience.
Imagine a world where homeownership is not inherited but attainable, where renting does not equate to precarity. Where cities serve people, not portfolios. Where shelter is not a fortune, but a human right. If we do this, permanence over profit then the global housing crisis may yet become a turning point in collective conscience.
Because houses are more than structures; they are thresholds of belonging. And a world that delays homes delays humanity. Let us build not just buildings, but the dignity that homes bestow.
Reprinted with courtesy of The Nation. All rights reserved.
https://www.nation.com.pk/02-Aug-2025/global-housing-crisis